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Welcome

to Pandora

By the hands of the Gods, you have been plucked from your time and from your world, dropped into the box. Only the box is a world of its own.

We are a mass crossover based on the concept of Pandora's Box. Characters from nearly any fandom can be played here. Because of the endless character possibilities, we are canon only here at Pandora. Take a peek at our rules and plot information before starting your new life in Pandora.

don't fret, precious

i'm here​

​

"Raise your hands nice 'n easy." The gruff voice sounded from directly behind Rosa. She felt the cold, hard point of a gun muzzle prod her back once. It didn't linger, which meant the guy knew better than to stand close enough for her to whip around and take it from him. Point one to the criminals. This was what she got for parking so far away from town.

She liked the quiet, what could she say?

Slowly, Rosa lifted her hands. "Drop the poker." She rolled her eyes and dropped the metal rod she'd been using to stoke the campfire she'd built near the truck.

"Are you seriously holding up a friggin' ice cream truck?" she snapped, her voice full of incredulous skepticism. Did people get that bored around here? Sure, Cascade Bay was small, but they were on the goddamn beach. Wasn't there weed to smoke and beer bongs to do?

"Shut up! Open up the back." The muzzle of the gun prodded her in the back again, this time hard enough to shove her up toward the truck. Rosa clenched her jaw, her dark eyes flashing with dangerous rage. Yeah, sure, she'd open up the back. "Don't try anything funny or I'll blow your spine out."

The ex-detective didn't answer, simply stomped up the sand to the place where the ice cream truck sat nestled against the line of the island's jungle. How the hell had they even known she was here? She reached the back of the truck and paused.

"Do it!" the gun prodded her again and it took everything Rosa had not to turn around and jump on the guy. Maybe she would have, but she didn't know for sure what kind of weapon he had. She'd have to be smart about it.

"Keep your panties on. I gotta get the key out of my back pocket. Nice 'n slow, yeah?" She reached back slowly, slipped two fingers into her back pocket and gently eased the key ring out. Then she stepped forward, stuck the key into the padlock to pop it open and lifted the heavy hatch the barred the door.

"That's right. Now open her up and step aside. We'll take what we came for and be on our way."

And that's exactly what Rosa did. ...minus the stepping aside. She flung the doors open and whirled, the handle of an ax grasped in her right hand. She used her left to knock the muzzle of the shotgun sharply upwards. It fired a split second later and she could feel the recoil through her hand but didn't let go. Instead she slammed the barrel of the gun back toward the startled man's masked face before he could regain control of the weapon. She was rewarded with a satisfying crunch and a yowl of pain. He went down, but Rosa didn't have time to finish the job before she was diving out of the way of a knife flung from the nearby darkness. She'd only seen it because the moon caught the glint of the blade. She hit the sand and rolled back up to her feet, whirling to press her back up against the truck, keeping it between her and the treeline.

Shit.

She had no idea how many of them there were. Didn't know if they were spread out or clumped together, what kinds of weapons they had. She was betting the Masked Idiot was the only one with a gun since his friends hadn't opened fire when she busted his nose open with his own weapon. The ax was held ready at her side. Why couldn't she have touched the rifle first instead? Hand to hand it was, then.

For a fleeting moment Rosa regretted that Jake wasn't around. His constant stream of commentary really helped her work through these tense situations. Oh, well. She'd have to take her issues out on a bunch of bad guys' faces instead.

There was something intriguing about the diversity of universes brought together by Pandora, but even more than that, there was an advantage to it. Unlike the criminals back in Gotham, most people here didn't realize that gunfire attracted costumed vigilantes like moths to a jail-destined flame. And from the looks of it, these goons weren't even smart enough to attempt to be the exception -- though he supposed how were they to know one would already be lurking nearby when the shotgun went off?

Damian crouched hidden among the branches of the treeline not too far from where the lone ice cream truck was being assaulted. Reports had already trickled into the Governor's office of an amateur road gang preying on tourists and travelers by night, and he wasn't sure what was more offensive: the sheer audacity they must have to target the weak and innocent when Robin was on the job or the fact that they did so armed like schoolyard bullies. Between the man holding up the truck driver and the half dozen scattered among the trees below him, the only serious threat he spied was the dropped shotgun. The rest were holding knives, machetes, baseball bats...hell, did that one have a hockey stick?

"Tch," Damian muttered to himself with a roll of his eyes. He'd give them points for mild originality, but... "Amateurs."

Below him, the highwaymen shifted uneasily. "Did you hear that?" one of them muttered. Since they were positioned with about five feet or so of space between them, he had to raise his voice to a little above a whisper just to be heard. Two others shushed him immediately with a rustle, and one with a hoarse voice even grumbled a low "Wait for the signal."

If the signal wasn't the guy by the truck getting his ass handed to him, Damian wasn't sure what to think. But then the downed thief held up his hand, the other covering what appeared to be a broken, bloody nose, and the Boy Wonder figured that if it was good enough for them, it was good enough for him too.

Before they could do so much as take a step forward to charge and overpower the poor girl -- who must've been terrified at this point, no doubt -- surprise rippled through their ranks at the sound of a bloodcurdling scream. With a passive expression, Damian dropped the goon he'd been holding by the throat to the ground. The grappling line which he'd used to help him snatch the man by the underarms like a predatory bat was now tied around the unconscious thug's slack ankle, and he hung almost grotesquely between two of his now spooked pals.

"There's-- There's something in the trees!"

If any of them had guns hidden on their persons that they hadn't fired at the girl fending off the thug with the shotgun, Damian was sure now would've been when they used it. As it was, his young body remained un-littered with bullet holes, and they all clutched their melee weapons like their lives depended on it. And hey, for all they knew, it did.

"Forget about it, let's go!" one of them called, making a break for the beach with a golf club in his hands. Either he had the most sense out of them or the least. Sure, he put distance between him and Damian, but distance meant little to a boy with a batarang whose attention had just snapped to the closest threat to the poor girl. The batarang flew with precise aim through the air, before embedding itself shallowly but painfully in the man's calf and sending him tumbling to the ground.

He stared down at the shape of the metal with a bewildered look. "What-- Who does this guy think he is? Batman?!"

"Not yet," Damian allowed with a half shrug as he landed with his boots on the sand, hood pulled low over his forehead. "But I will be."

don't fret, precious

i'm here​

​

The bloodcurdling scream that echoed from the forest made the hair at the back of Rosa's next stand on end. It was one thing when she was making a perp scream like that, another entirely when she didn't know what the hell had caused that kind of pain and fear. There was an ensuing commotion from the treeline and a quick peek around the side of the van showed several guys fleeing from the forest out onto the beach. A dark form dropped to the ground behind them, its face concealed by hood and shadow. The figure spoke, though she didn't catch the words. A young man's voice, though.

Interesting. Here to help or cause more trouble?

A flutter of movement behind the guy drew Rosa's eyes, and in one smooth motion she side-stepped away from her cover, cocked her arm, and hurled the ax. It might have seemed that it was headed straight for the hooded figure when in truth it was set to fly straight past him. Seconds later there was a thud followed by a shout of pain and a loud rustling of leaves and twigs as the guy attempting to sneak up on mystery-boy went down, knocked senseless when the back-side of the blade collided squarely with his forehead.

Rosa already had a throwing knife in her hand, having reached down to pull it out of her boot just after she loosed the ax.

"We gonna do this or what?" she snapped, her dark eyes scanning over the remaining thugs. There were four of them caught in the stretch of sand between herself and the guy in the hood. Rosa twirled the blade between her fingers and cocked her head, lips twisting into a grin that was more like a silent baring of teeth.

There was a beat of silence, and then everyone was moving. Three of the thugs rushed mystery-boy, evidently deciding that he was the bigger threat. The fourth came for Rosa wielding an actual hockey-stick. Her last thought before engaging the perp was to wonder why he hadn't broken off the blade to turn the stick into a spear. At least then it might have been halfway intimidating.